


Overuse of Horizontal Bars

by locutusthecat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:38:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locutusthecat/pseuds/locutusthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((AKA I don't know how to title))</p><p>When Feferi's rebellion succeeds, and the New Empire is beginning its overhaul, where does Equius belong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overuse of Horizontal Bars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreyscaleCourtier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyscaleCourtier/gifts).



Equius was never one of Feferi’s correspondents. He did not help with the rebellion, besides the quick robotic fixes asked of him by his betters. Similar work has found itself in his grasp during Empress Feferi’s takeover.

He takes on quiet work. The kind that keeps the hands and the mind busy, but leaves the heart to wander. The grinding and whirring of metallic hobbies fills a certain hole that is very different than the ones fellow trolls occupy.

One moirail isn’t enough.

Equius fixes delicate wiring in repurposed drones and takes out tiny dents in their plating. He wasn’t asked to make them pretty again, but he takes pride in his work. These drones were built for Intimidation, not rust and defects will not besmirch their history. He will not allow it.

Sometimes Nepeta tells him of a world where every troll is equal and where drones aren't needed. The dents they get wouldn't be necessary because nobody needlessly fights. She imagines violets and rusts on equal footing, just as the rebellion imagines. This is, of course, ridiculous, but it sounds almost good in a way. Nepeta could get a better job, live longer.

Visit more.

But as much as he likes to imagine, Equius knows she will never reach his expected life span, and green bloods are not suited to the kind of work he wants her to have.

She’s good, but no green is that good.

Not good enough to change Equius's mind.

 

* * *

 

  
Three things tied Equius to the Empire: his work, his belief in the hemospectrum, and his moirail.

Neither his moirail or the New Empire support his ideals anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Equius requisitions his transfer papers and makes a to-do list.

He spends the next evening with solitude and metal and wires, capped off with a healthy dose of paperwork. Lunch is bland and forgettable. Mid-night replicates evening, roughly, plus one uncomfortable call to his boss.

Two days and three hours into the future, if a visitor were to come, they would be greeted by a mess commonly associated with packing. Clean shirts on the floor, but only by the dresser, multiple garbage bags filled only with perishable food items, missing toothbrush.

This is all rectified twenty minutes later, sans the toothbrush.

Ten minutes after that, Equius is gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The journey is somewhat long, which Equius had prepared for, but the food is even worse than he expected. Everything tastes a little too much like flavor concentrate and added sugar. Why bother trying to dress it up; it was never supposed to be gourmet.

 

* * *

 

 

On his second day, Equius is banned from the cockpit.

The mud-blood pilot had no idea how to take care of his own equipment.

When they realize their error, Equius is sure he will be invited to take a look at their obviously faulty wiring.

However, they do not come for him, so Equius decides to sleep and dream of the sensors malfunctioning and crashing into the nearest moon.

 

* * *

 

 

In the middle of Equius's third week on board, the sensors ping back 'planet!' and it's not a mistake.

Equius finds out two hours later when the co-pilot enters his room and tells him to pack his things. Equius thinks to himself, she should have knocked, and goes back to sleep.

He doesn't have much to pack anyways.

 

* * *

 

 

The ship drops Equius off with its shipment and leaves.

His new abode and workshop are located on the bottom floor of a communal hivestem. There are more people than Equius will ever be accustomed to, but he supposes that's alright considering nobody so much as glances in his direction as they walk up the stairs to their block.

 

* * *

 

 

Nepeta finds him in two weeks, covered in grease and sweat, bent over an old farming drone. Equius's hands shake as he looks up, eyes wide and tense.

She wasn't supposed to come for him.

Even so, Nepeta looks him over. She inspects for the bruises and cuts that come from having so much strength. She inspects for the cause of clothes a few sizes too big. She notices that Equius won't meet her eyes.

Rather than ask, Nepeta heads straight to the nutrition block and pulls out cans of soup and bread and cheese. Tomato soup with grilled cheese is her specialty.

But then the cooking is done and the table is covered in awkward silence and bread crumbs. What is there to say, really, when your moirail runs away?

"N-Nepeta, I'm sorry," Equius finally says. "I did not mean to worry you and it occurs to me I may have overlooked some of the consequences of my actions."

Nepeta just looks at him, head tilted with eyebrows to the sky as if to say, 'No, reeeaalllly?'

Equius looks down, up, down again, and pauses there.

"I meant that, uh," Equius fidgets, "that you might be relieved that I was gone."

Nepeta shoots to her feet screaming "WHAT?!?"

He almost thinks she's about to punch him, but instead she grabs him so that he must either follow or hurt her to escape her grip.

She takes him to an empty patch of the floor and empties her sylladex, motioning for him to sit. So he does. And she follows. And slowly, softly, places her hand on his cheek.

Equius looks at her and the pile he doesn't deserve, carefully blinking his watering eyes dry. After a moment of measured breathing he asks her, "why?"

Her giggle wavers a little as she swipes her hand across her own cheek, but there is no doubt in her voice as she answers.

"Because I love you, silly."

 

* * *

 

They talk through twilight and most of the morning, admitting fears and failures and wondering where to go from here.

And at the end of it all, Nepeta is the one who decides they could both use a little good news. She got a promotion.

Equius cracks a tiny, lopsided smile, and thinks, maybe, green bloods are capable of a little more than he expected.

This is Nepeta after all.

If she can handle him as a moirail, he'd be hard pressed to find something she couldn't do.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry this is so late and also really sappy. This is also my first fanfic, at least that I'm posting, so please excuse the quality. Even so, I'm pretty proud of what I've accomplished and I hope you enjoy it too!


End file.
